It Meant Something
by TheeAnonymousFangirl
Summary: She couldn't bring herself to do it. Rage had made Jen do some pretty crazy things in the past, including smashing the car of a speeding asshole with a golf club she had in the trunk of her car. But this, she couldn't do.


She couldn't bring herself to do it.

Rage had made Jen do some pretty crazy things in the past, including smashing the car of a speeding asshole with a golf club she had in the trunk of her car.

But this, she couldn't do.

"Stupid fucking Jen," she thought. "You're not as tough as you think."

Sitting on the floor in the middle of her closet, hands clutching her hair so hard she was sure she pulled out chunks, tears running down her face, she thought about how she ended up here.

Well first, she let Judy into her life. That was her first mistake.

Actually no, being vulnerable was her first mistake. Letting Judy in was the second, a result of being weak for just a moment. Jen NEVER let her guard down. In fact, after Ted died, her guard had only gotten stronger. She wanted nothing to do with anyone, except her boys. She hated everyone and everything, wondering why life was so cruel to her.

And that day at the grief group when Judy had gone up to Jen, she wanted so badly to turn away, but something stopped her. At the time she thought maybe it was a gift. Life had been so shitty to her, maybe the earth was repaying her with this wonderfully odd human. Now she realizes it was just another punishment.

Jen's decisions only got more questionable when she let Judy move in with her. Who was she kidding? She _asked_ Judy to move in, practically begged even.

"Dumbass," Jen half sobbed half shouted to herself. "You barely fucking knew her!"

Jen threw a shoe across the closet for emphasis. It slammed against the wall and for some reason it only made her cry harder. She started pounding her hands on the ground and kept yelling to herself, "Stupid, stupid, stupid. You let her into your life, you let your boys become attached, you fell i-" No, she wouldn't let herself say it. Saying it only made it true and if she could just hold it in, she could pretend that the feelings she felt weren't actually there. She could push them down into the deepest parts of her soul and pretend that Judy Hale wasn't part of who she was now.

And of course there was the mistake that fucked her, the one that really landed her in this shit show, which was allowing Judy to become her other half. At first it was just the friendship. Jen didn't know how badly she needed another person until she met Judy. She thought she was fine on her own, but she was so wrong. Their long, late night talks over wine were what held Jen together. Many times the days were so bad that the only thing that kept her going was thinking about Judy and how in just a few hours she'd get to see her beautiful face.

But that was when Jen started to _need_ Judy, and she allowed herself to. She didn't try to stop herself from feeling the way she did for the other woman. Judy's smile and big brown eyes made Jen fall heart first into her clutches. Judy had truly become Jen's other half.

And it was good for a while. Jen would admit that it was actually pretty great. Despite being emotionally unstable due to Ted's death, Jen was actually happy for the most part. Judy was the first person to make Jen smile again, to make her laugh again, to make her feel like she wasn't a complete failure. And she was the kindest, most loving, and weird person Jen knew. Judy would get up earlier than the Harding's in the mornings just so she could make breakfast for the family. She would wait up late at night and sometimes well into the morning to make sure Jen got home from her mind clearing drives safely. As their relationship grew stronger, Judy would gently grab Jen's fingers and lead her upstairs. Silently they would undress and crawl into bed, snuggling together and clinging to one another for dear life.

Judy made Jen feel safe.

Judy was her person.

Until suddenly she wasn't.

Images of Judy confessing to Jen danced in her head. She shoved her fists into her eyes to try and clear the nightmare in her mind. But it wasn't in her mind. It was real.

"I hit him. I hit him. I had a 66 Mustang."

The words kept ricocheting through Jen's brain.

"I hit him."

"SHUT UP!" Jen screeched and heaved the empty wine glass that had been sitting at her side. It hit the wall opposite her and shattered, shards of glass flying in every direction.

A fresh round of sobs pushed their way out of Jen. This was the first time she had cried since Judy's confession last night and at this point, she wasn't sure she was ever going to be able to stop.

Losing Ted was one thing and it was definitely painful, but it wasn't the same as what she was feeling now. Sure Jen loved Ted, but their relationship had become rocky towards the end and now that she knew the truth about how much of an asshole he was, it was easier to accept that he was gone. But even so, when the cops showed up at her house the morning of his death to tell her that he died, she didn't feel pain like this. This was the kind of pain that made you feel like you were being ripped apart from the inside. This was the kind of pain that felt like you lost a piece of yourself.

Jen didn't really even feel rage anymore, and if she were being honest, any rage she did feel was only due to the complete and utter heartbreak that overpowered every part of her being.

Although the rage had worn down to cold hard sadness, she definitely did feel it at first.

Rage is what made Jen go into the guesthouse just hours after Judy had confessed and left, and throw all of Judy's stuff outside.

Rage is what made her pile it up, light a cigarette, and burn everything that Judy had left behind.

Well, everything but one little piece of history.

Because even though there was rage, it was powered by the memories and love that was being ripped away from her, turning Jen into a heap of sadness.

In the process of erasing every ounce of Judy from the guest house, Jen had come across the little green blanket stuffed underneath one of the pillows on the bed. She hesitated for just a moment before throwing it out the door and into the pile with the rest of Judy's shit.

A brief memory of the night that Jen had returned it to Judy surfaced in her mind. The way the brunette smiled at Jen, the way the cold air hit them as they made their way into the house that night, the way Judy's lips felt on Jen's as they kissed for the first time, soft and sweet; just like Judy.

Jen shook herself out of the memory and stepped outside to begin the final step of clearing Judy from her life.

In quick successions Jen began lighting the items Judy had left behind on fire. She started with the smaller pieces, such as Judy's clothes. She threw them onto the grill, throwing a lit match on top and watching as the fire quickly engulfed the pile. Once the first one was turned into ashes, Jen turned to the larger pile on the lawn. Just as she was about to pull some more things out to burn on the grill, she spotted it again.

The little pink 'Judy Ann' stared Jen in the face atop a painted canvas. Not just any painted canvas, the one Judy painted of herself with a heart in the center of her.

It was almost like Judy was taunting her from the painting, daring Jen to throw the baby blanket into the fire to burn away with the rest of Judy's things.

Jen gritted her teeth and picked up the green fabric. She dangled it over the flames in the grill. Watching the little orange flames lapping just inches from the edge of the blanket.

Just as Jen was about to let go, she pulled her hand back and clutched the blanket to her chest. Angrily she put the lid on the grill and turned toward the house.

No matter the anger she felt, she just couldn't burn it.

Rage made her have the urge to burn the blanket, but love kept her from actually doing it.

Jen entered her home, which now just felt empty and sad, and took the stairs two at a time on her way to her room.

She didn't really know why she was still holding the blanket or where she was going until she got to her closet and dropped down to her knees, letting the tears fall freely.

Subconsciously Jen held the blanket to her face, something she had done several times with a pillow to quiet her sobs.

It smelled like Judy.

Jen pulled the blanket away from her face and stared at it through watery eyes. She missed Judy so much already, the absence of the other woman was felt almost immediately. Jen's heart throbbed in her chest with the loss of her other half.

She dropped the blanket in front of her, which is when the screaming and throwing of objects happened. And that all led up to where she was now, surrounded by shattered glass and memories of the one she loved most.

In the past seven hours, Jen's life had been turned upside down. Again.

Never could she had imagined that Judy, her sweet, wonderful Judy, was the one to hit Ted.

Every part of her wanted to hate Judy, wanted to pretend that what they had didn't mean anything. But she just couldn't. Despite learning the truth and being furious, Jen still loved Judy. The brunette had come to mean too much to her.

And that's why she couldn't do it. She couldn't burn Judy's baby blanket. It meant too much to Judy and it had come to mean a lot to Jen too.

Jen wiped her face on her sleeve and attempted to pull herself together as much as she possibly could.

Standing up and pulling the blanket behind her, she made her way to the far corner of her closet.

She dug around for a minute and pulled out the little chest of memories that she kept hidden away. It was now mostly filled with things that reminded her of Ted, but there were things from her mom in there as well. This was her chest of memories from the people she'd lost, the memories that hurt too much but she couldn't bring herself to dispose of. This is where Judy's baby blanket belonged.

Jen stuffed the little green blanket inside and pushed the chest back into the shadows of the closet.

Jen took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her bearings. When she opened them again, a sort of calmness settled over her.

Taking a look around at her now messy closet, Jen decided it could wait to be cleaned. She glanced at the corner in which the blanket lived one more time before turning on her heel and leaving the closet, shutting the door behind her.

Jen knew that she would think about that blanket for weeks to come and maybe she should have burned it.

But she couldn't bring herself to do it.


End file.
